I can't fight this feeling any longer
by dicaprio
Summary: It’s the end of March 2010. Syed and Amira are still together, but he is really struggling to cope, and then he finds out Christian’s got a job in Spain ...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"I love her very much, and we've never been happier, she's perfect for me," Syed says brightly as he removes the tray of cold chicken from the fridge and hands it to Christian. As he reaches for the second tray, he hears a crash and suddenly a pair of strong hands circle his neck. Before he can get a word out, the hands tighten and he can't breathe. He tries to pry them loose, but he's not strong enough. Then he hears his father's shocked voice from the doorway, "Christian, what the hell are you doing?"

"He's gay," Christian replies bluntly, without removing his hands.

"Are you mad?" asks Masood, disbelievingly. "Of course he's not gay. He's a happily married man, in case you've forgotten."

"HE'S GAY, HE'S GAY, HE'S GAY," shouts Christian, his voice full of pain, as his hands tighten their grip even further.

The last thing Syed hears before he loses consciousness is his father saying, "Oh, well if he's definitely gay, then carry on, don't let me stop you. We'll leave you too it, come on Zee, lets …"

Syed jerks awake, grasping for air and covered in perspiration. He instinctively reaches up to feel his neck, expecting it to be bruised and painful to touch.

"Christian!" he thinks to himself in amazement. He feels Amira stir beside him, and realises he's said it out loud. Terrified of waking her, he slips out of bed, grabs his clothes and tiptoes out of the room and into the bathroom, where he gets dressed.

As he walks along the deserted Square, he imagines telling Christian about his dream.

_"I haven't slept properly in weeks, and then when I do manage it, you try to kill me," he would say mock-seriously. _

_"Listen to your dreams, Sy; I could snap you like a twig," Christian would respond, playfully reaching for his throat. _

"_Get off," he would say, laughing and grabbing his hands as they reached for him._

_"Even in your dreams, you can't escape me, because you don't really want to, do you?" Christian would then add growing serious; noting that Syed was not letting go of his hands. _

_"Mum and dad were in the dream, too; it doesn't mean anything," Syed would weakly try to defend himself._

_But Christian would then lean towards him and whisper in his ear, "You love me, you want to kiss me," in that soft silky voice that he knows always gets right under Syed's skin, and his lips would slowly move from his ear to his mouth … _

Syed desperately wishes he could go and tell him about his dream … From nowhere, he feels a powerful burst of emotion explode in his chest, and suddenly he's crying so hard he has to push his fist into his mouth to stop the harsh sobs from escaping. Without really being aware of where he's going, he finds himself by the swings. He staggers onto one of them, almost falling backwards before regaining his balance. Once settled, he rocks back and forth, trying to calm himself down. It's freezing cold, even though it's the end of March, and he pulls his jacket as tight as he can around him to try to keep warm. His mind starts to wander, and he loses himself, as he has done many times recently, in remembering their first meeting and all that happened from then until the day he told Christian he loved him. He always tries to stop after he has relived that perfect day.

_

* * *

_

Christian has been awake for almost an hour; it's still only 5am, and he's exhausted but cannot settle. Whenever he closes his eyes, he sees Syed's beautiful brown ones; usually full of pain, but sometimes full of mischief or desire – oh how he misses the good old days. He has tried watching TV, but nothing grabs his attention. He picks up a book, but drops if after a few minutes. He wanders over to the window to see if anything interesting is happening in the Square, and spots Syed. He has never seen anyone look so vulnerable, miserable and alone. His eyes immediately fill with tears. "How can one person or one group of people destroy two lives and be so sure they are doing the right thing, not even have a moment's doubt about what they are doing, be so closed off, unbending?" he thinks angrily, and not for the first time over the past few months. He knows there is no use in going out to him, because Syed would either push him away, or be unable to push him away and hate him in the morning.

Christian is not (very) conceited when it comes to his looks, but he knows, has known from the beginning, that he has a very strong affect on Syed; it's in his eyes when he looks at him; in his body language when he's near him – he has never met a guy who is so responsive to him, so aware of him, and only him - sometimes it's the only thing Christian is sure of. Ironically, since his marriage, Christian senses that Syed has found it even harder to keep away, even though it's only about friendship for them right now. After the wedding, Christian expected Syed to avoid him, at least for a while, but the opposite has happened; and he knows it would take very little pressure to get Syed back in his bed. But that's not enough for Christian now. He can't live in Amira's shadow. The wedding changed everything for him. Hard as it is to watch, he knows Syed has to go through all this torment, so that he can come out the other side knowing he hasn't got a choice about who he must be with. That way there will be no regrets when they begin their life together. And no matter what Syed says, Christian truly believes it's a matter of when and not if this will happen.

Syed checks his watch - it's 6.30am; and since Amira doesn't usually get up until around 8, he figures he has at least another hour before he has to go home so as not to be missed. He wonders what Christian is doing now, and figures he's probably sleeping soundly, taking up the whole of the bed, their bed; he misses their bed so much. A horrible thought enters his head - Christian might not be sleeping alone for much longer; he instantly pushes it away. He knows that staying in the Square and seeing Christian every day is only making his situation worse. He has thought about suggesting to Amira that they move away; her dad could put them up for a while until they've gotten on their feet. But then he thinks about the way he felt when Christian left for Barcelona before Christmas, when he thought he was never going to see him again, and immediately drops the idea. Not seeing him or being able to talk to him whilst they were on honeymoon for those two really long weeks was hard enough.

Having fallen into a troubled sleep, the next time Christian wakes it says 7.35 on the clock. He gets up to go to the bathroom, and on his way back takes a quick look out the window to see if Ian's car is still outside - Ian was supposed to go to the cash and carry first thing. What he doesn't bargain for is the sight of Syed still sitting on the swing. "God, how can he still be sitting there, he'll freeze to death," he thinks worriedly. His immediate idea is to pull on some clothes and go straight out and bring him back to his flat, but then from nowhere a rage takes hold of him. "This is just ridiculous," he thinks angrily, punching the windowsill in frustration. "Enough is enough. I've let him live his life for the past few months, I've watched him suffer without getting involved, but no more."

Vaguely, Syed becomes aware that he can't feel his toes or his fingers, and that he's never felt so cold. Looking at his watch, he is startled to realise that it's almost 8am. "I need to get home," he thinks, quickly getting up off the swing. "Christian might soon be out and about, he doesn't like to sleep in, even when he's not due to be working. I should really be getting home, mum and Amira will wonder where I am. Christian usually has breakfast in the Cafe. Maybe I could have breakfast in the Cafe, just for a change. There's hardly any chance I'll run into him ..." Then, suddenly he is jerked out of his musings when Christian's door opens; he hadn't realised he'd been staring at it all this time. Christian walks out, looking tanned and relaxed. He crosses the street and enters the park in the middle of Albert Square.

Without thinking about it, his heart pounding, Syed runs towards the park and enters a little further up. He then walks in Christian's direction until he "accidentally" bumps into him.

"Oh, hi, didn't expect to see you at this time of the morning," he says breathlessly. "It's a bit early to be starting a bar shift, isn't it? I'm on my way to the wholesalers," he adds all in a rush. And before Christian can answer, "Where've you been? You haven't been around for over a week, you've got a tan, have you been anywhere nice?"

"Hi Syed," says Christian calmly. "I've been to visit my mother in Spain."

"Oh, that sounds nice. Hope you had a nice time, and that she's keeping well. We should go for a drink to catch up. You can tell me all about it. I've never been to Spain. What's ..."

"She wants me to come and live with her for a while," Christian says flatly. "There's a job going in her local bar. They're looking for someone to run it."

Syed reaches out his hand and grips the street lamp he's standing next to. "Do you think you'll take it?" he asks, a slight tremor in his voice.

"I think it would be for the best, don't you?" Christian replies dryly.

"Well, you didn't stay gone long the last time you went to Barcelona, did you?" says Syed spitefully. "If you didn't like it then, what makes you think you'll like it this time?"

"I thought I had something to come back and fight for before Christmas, but now there's nothing to keep me here," Christian says bluntly. "And the social scene in Barcelona is really great; a week of partying really brought it home to me just how miserable and boring my life has been the last few months; it made me realise that I miss my old life."

"You may be pretty, but you're not much fun these days, are you?" Christian adds for good measure, with a little smile.

Unable to respond, Syed bows his head before Christian can see the pain he's inflicted.

"Anyway, I've got to get going," Christian adds breezily, "I'm opening the Cafe for Ian this morning. By the way, no offence, but you look like shit." And with that, he walks away with his customary swagger.

He gets as far as the other side of the park before he lets himself look back. Syed is still standing exactly where he left him.

Sometime later, Amira walks into the Cafe. "Hey babe, where've you been? she asks excitedly, giving him a big hug.

"Hey yourself," says Christian warmly. "I've been in Spain visiting my mum."

"Lucky you, getting away from this miserable weather, even for a week," she says, sighing wistfully. "Don't suppose you've seen Syed, have you? He'd already left when I woke this morning. Mum thought he might have gone to the MQ, as we have a large order to get ready for this evening, but I've just been there and the doors are still locked."

"I spoke to him for a few minutes, earlier," he replies, thinking bitterly that as usual someone is lying to the poor cow, "and he said he was going to the wholesalers."

At 10am, Bianca arrives to take over, and Christian heads back to the flat to grab a shower and change of clothes before starting his shift in the Vic at 12. As he enters the Park, he is horrified to find Syed sitting on a bench near where he left him almost two hours earlier.

"Syed, what are you still doing here?" he asks urgently rushing over to him, but Syed just looks up at him vaguely, without answering. He takes his hand, and is shocked to find it's like a block of ice. "Let's get you out of here," he says gently, putting his arm around his shoulders and helping him up.

As they make their way towards Christian's flat, they run into Billy (Mitchell).

"What's wrong with him?" he asks, when he sees the state Syed is in.

"He's just found out the Pussycat Dolls are breaking up," Christian says absently without stopping.

"Who?" asks Billy, but he doesn't get an answer.

As soon as they enter the flat, Christian brings Syed straight into the bathroom, strips him and puts him under the hot spray of the shower to try to warm him up. He then goes to heat up some soup.

After about 20 minutes, Syed walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. When he sees him, Christian has a flashback to happier times; but then he notices that Syed has lost weight, and that his eyes have lost their sparkle. It takes him a moment before he can speak.

"You feeling a little better?" he eventually asks, as he hands him the soup and some bread.

"Yea, I'm fine, thanks," Syed answers politely, avoiding eye contact. While he drinks the soup, Christian goes to get him something to wear.

"I can't believe it's already after 10," he says, laughing nervously, when Christian returns. "I must have completely lost track of time."

Whilst Syed pulls on Christian's shirt and trousers (which swamp him), he is slightly turned away from him, and Christian allows himself the luxury of staring openly at this beautiful man. He feels keenly the unfairness of their situation. "We love each other so much, how can it be wrong?" he thinks sadly.

"Didn't anyone notice you sitting there staring into space for so long?" he asks, his voice not quite steady, when Syed turns back towards him.

"Lucas came up to me at one point, to ask if I was okay," replies Syed. I told him I was fine. He offered to go and get mum or Amira, but I told him I was just taking time out and preferred to be by myself. He said if I ever needed to talk, the doors of his church were always open. I think he got a bit uncomfortable when I started laughing and then couldn't stop. He walked away after a few minutes."

"I'm really okay, honestly," he insists weakly, shifting uncomfortably under Christian's concerned gaze.

"Well if you're sure, then you'd better get going," Christian says abruptly, completely changing his tone. "Amira's been looking for you, and I'm sure it won't be long before Zainab comes sniffing around if you don't report for husband duty."

"Leave?" asks Syed anxiously, but Christian is already on his feet and heading for the bathroom.

"Was it busy in the cafe? Who took over from you, was it Jane?" he asks hurriedly, getting up and following him.

"I have to have a shower and get ready, I'm working in the Vic this afternoon, so if you don't mind," Christian insists, closing the bathroom door in his face.

"Whilst I was sitting on the bench, I was thinking," Syed says, his voice rising in desperation, "maybe once you're settled, I could come and visit you in Barcelona. Maybe we could open a bar there together. If we were in business together, it would make sense for me to spend a lot of my time there. I could split my time between here and Spain. Amira will be busy with the kids ..."

"Get out Syed."

"We're friends," he begs, "I want to be your friend."

The only response he gets is the sound of the shower. He stands indecisively for a few moments. He knows he should leave, but can't help himself; he opens the bathroom door and enters, and is transfixed by the sight of Christian standing naked under the spray.

"I want to be your friend, Christian," he says huskily, moving forward, mesmerised, his hand instinctively reaching for him.

"To be honest," says Christian turning to look at him with cold eyes, "without the sex you're not enough for me, maybe you never were."

"Syed staggers back as if he's been slapped, the colour draining from his face. "Don't, don't you say that," he sobs. "You don't mean that, you can't mean that," he cries. "Why are you being so cruel to me. You've, you've changed," he stammers, his arms crossing in front of him, trying to protect himself.

"No, Sy, I've changed back," replies Christian icily, "and you're not my problem anymore."

Devastated, Syed slowly turns away from him, and walks out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Where have you been?" demands Zainab and Amira in unison as soon as Syed walks in the door.

He walks straight past them and up the stairs. He locks the door to his and Amira's bedroom and doesn't come out until the next morning. Amira has to sleep on the couch.

For the next couple of weeks, Syed works from early morning until late at night in the MQ. He manages to get a few hours sleep each night because he's exhausted, and he eats when someone reminds him to. He has given up all pretence of being a loving husband to Amira. If she tries to touch him he pulls away, giving no reason, making no excuses. Whenever Zainab starts ranting at him, or even tries to talk to him reasonably, he just walks away.

During one of their one-sided arguments, Amira tells him bluntly that she found out a couple of days earlier she isn't pregnant; and she coldly informs him she is going back on the pill. Syed doesn't comment, he knows it doesn't matter now, he can't even bear the thought of it now. And he's no longer under the illusion that a baby will fix everything. He doesn't have the answers anymore. He doesn't know what to do anymore. When he got married, he really thought he would be able to be a proper husband to Amira. He didn't expect to find it so difficult to have sex with her, or that as time passed it wouldn't get any easier. He thought Amira was a nice and suitable girl, he wanted kids, and he wanted to be a good Muslim; and that was as far as his thinking went before the wedding. He didn't bargain on his emotions getting in the way and ruining everything.

_

* * *

_

One night, when Syed arrives home, Masood is waiting for him.

"Somebody's working very hard," he says by way of greeting.

"Hi dad," says Syed in a tired voice, as he goes to walk past him towards the stairs.

"Wait a minute," he replies, "I think maybe we need to have a little chat."

"I'm tired, maybe tomorrow," Syed suggests, as he carries on walking.

"Hang on," orders Masood firmly, catching his arm and halting his escape, "this can't wait."

"Talk to me, tell me what's going on inside that head of yours," he demands, once he has closed the sitting room door behind them and turned to face Syed.

Syed doesn't speak.

"Syed, whatever it is, we can talk about it. You and I have had our ups and downs, but there is nothing you can't talk to me about. I promise I won't (over) react the way your mother would," he teasingly cajoles.

"Why didn't you thank Christian for everything he did when mum was in labour with Kamil?" Syed asks abruptly.

"What?" asks Masood surprised. "Did we not thank him? I'm sure we did," he tries to think back to that magical day. "There was so much going on … maybe we forgot. I'll speak to him about it tomorrow, definitely. Did he mention something? I hope he isn't annoyed with us. I've always really liked Christian, and I wouldn't want any bad feeling."

But that's not what's bothering you, is it?" he guesses. "Please tell me." And when Syed still doesn't answer, "I'm not blind, you know. I did notice that you and Amira haven't always been happy since you got married; but this last couple of weeks you've just shut down completely, not speaking to anyone unless it's about work or to answer a direct question (and not always then). Did something specific happen to upset you?"

No response.

"Is it something to do with Amira?"

Silence.

"Marriage can be difficult at the best of times, Syed. And I know it can't be easy living with your parents, the lack of privacy. Maybe we could try to give you more time alone together, we can work something out."

Syed bites his bottom lip and looks towards the door, but makes no response.

Anger and suspicion hardening his voice, Masood continues, "I've heard your mum kicking off at you more than once recently, but she won't tell me why she's giving you such a hard time. And I walked in yesterday to find Amira in tears being comforted by her. Have you done something I should know about, Syed? Something illegal maybe, to do with money?"

"No, dad, I've learned my lesson on that score," Syed finally speaks, stung by the accusation. "I've got no money and I've not tried to come up with any. You get most of my pay each week, and all that's left over goes on food and any bits and pieces Amira and I need."

"Then can I ask you a more personal question?" asks Masood carefully. "Have you cheated on Amira?"

Syed doesn't respond, but he can no longer meet his father's eyes.

"Syed, answer me," he warns, his mood darkening.

"I'm going to bed," says Syed nervously. Trying to project a confidence he doesn't feel, he starts to walk towards the door.

"You idiot," snaps Masood furiously, moving nearer to the door so that he's blocking his way. "How could you be so stupid?" he accuses, his voice rising. "She's a lovely girl, and she doesn't deserve this. It's only recently you were talking about having a baby."

"Get out of my way, please," begs Syed. He doesn't bother to try to correct his father's assumption, he doesn't have the energy to care. He once again tries to get to the door.

"Who did you cheat with?" demands Masood, not moving.

"I haven't cheated on Amira since we got married," Syed admits wearily, unable to take anymore. He feels more tired than he has ever felt in his life. "Please let me pass," he pleads, putting his hand out to try to force his way past Masood.

"Who did you cheat with before you got married?" asks Masood slowly, pronouncing each word clearly, his voice now dangerously quiet; he slaps Syed's hand away. "The only girls I've seen you getting friendly with since you returned are Parveen and Janine Butcher. Have you and Janine ...?"

"No," replies Syed quickly, but he is suddenly aware that he has said too much.

"Then who?" shouts Masood, losing patients. He grabs Syed by the shoulders and shakes him. "Tell me," he demands furiously.

"I'm sorry, dad," Syed whispers helplessly.

Masood sighs heavily and, letting go of his shoulders, says a little more calmly, "Please Syed, tell me what's been going on." He puts his hand under Syed's chin, lifting his face so that he can see his expression. He has never seen him look so unhappy.

"Syed, whatever it is, whoever it is, you can tell me. I'll be angry, but it'll pass – isn't it better to get it out in the open?"

Syed's eyes fill with tears, and Masood puts his arms around him and hugs him tightly.

After a few minutes, Syed pulls back, wiping away his tears.

"You know, no matter what happens, I'll always love you, I'll always be your dad," Masood says gently.

"If I told you, you'd hate me, you'd throw me out again, you'd never speak to me again," replies Syed sadly.

"How bad can it be?" asks Masood, smiling encouragingly at his troubled son. "Maybe it's not as bad as you think."

"You know, I learned a tough lesson after I forced you out last time," he admits. It wasn't just your mother who was miserable and missing you. The only thing that kept me going those four long years was that you were keeping in touch with Tam, and he was able to reassure us that you were all right. I could never go through that again, so no matter what you've done, you're going nowhere, I promise you."

"You haven't killed anyone, have you?" he adds teasingly.

"No, it's worse than that," replies Syed bleakly.

"Is she married, this woman who's got you under her spell?" asks Masood after a few minutes silence. "Does she live around here?"

No response.

"Can you really not live without her?" he gently persists.

"I've never felt like this before," Syed finally whispers softly. "I thought I could control it, but I can't. I don't know what to do, it's eating away at me," he sobs, covering his face with his hands; his shoulders shaking with the force of his pain and torment.

Masood hugs him once more, this time fighting back his own tears. He's never seen his son so broken, and it upsets him so much.

"I thought that if we could be friends, and see each other and talk every day, then I could cope," Syed says mournfully, "but now he's leaving, and …"

"He?" asks Masood.

Syed freezes, his breath catching in his throat. He jerks out of Masood's embrace, his face a mixture of horror and fear, and backs away from him until he is up against the cupboard on the other side of the room. He tries to speak, but can't get the words out.

"'He', Syed?" repeats Masood, stunned.

Syed frantically looks around for a way to escape, but there isn't one.

As Masood takes a step towards him, his legs give way and he slides down until he is on the floor. Hugging his knees to him, he bows his head, trying to make himself as small as possible. "Please, please don't hurt me," he begs hoarsely. "I can't stop it, I love him, I can't control how I feel, I've tried so hard," he cries desperately.

Seeing how terrified he is, Masood stops a few feet from him, looking down at him for a moment, his face frozen in shock; he then turns and walks out.

He returns a few minutes later with a cup of strong coffee. Syed is exactly as he left him.

He takes his arm gently and helps him up, leading him, on legs that are not quite steady, over to the couch. "If there was ever a time for alcohol, it's this, but all I can give you is coffee, I'm afraid," he says, handing him the drink. "Being gay is one thing, but drinking alcohol …"

Syed takes the cup in both hands.

"Is it Christian?" Masood asks, after a few minutes silence.

Syed almost drops the cup, but says nothing, keeping his head down and his eyes to the floor. The blush which rises in his cheeks gives Masood his answer.

"You're being very calm about this," Syed eventually manages to say hoarsely. "Mum once said there were no gay people in Pakistan."

"Ah, but did she tell you about the UK Postal Service?" Masood asks blandly.

"Really?" asks Syed, looking up at him in surprise, but Masood just smiles teasingly.

They sit quietly for a little while, both lost in their own thoughts.

How long has it being going on?" Masood finally asks, now getting serious.

"Since last June," Syed replies nervously.

"Before you got engaged to Amira?"

"Yes."

"Yet, you went ahead with it," he says sharply. "You lied to her, telling her you loved her when you knew you never could. Even though you knew what it could do to her reputation if your relationship failed, you went ahead and married her," he points out, his anger increasing the more he thinks about everything, his fists clinching.

"I'm sorry," begs Syed, "I thought I could push my feelings down deep inside me. I did, I do care about Amira, and I thought that once we had children I would be okay. I really believed I could make the marriage work, and that her reputation would be safe, that no-one would ever know," he concludes desperately.

"Why not just stay single?" asks Masood in frustration. "I know your mother was putting pressure on you to find a girl, but you have a voice, you could have said no."

"I thought that if I was committed to Amira ..." he murmurs awkwardly looking away, "if we were together and it was official ..."

"That you'd be safe from temptation, safe from yourself," Masood finishes for him, finally understanding the whole sorry mess.

"Do you hate me?" Syed asks brokenly.

"Of course I don't hate you," says Masood firmly. "It's going to take a bit of time for me to get my head around this, I won't lie to you; but you're a grown man, and I wouldn't dare presume to tell you how to live your life; as long as you aren't hurting anyone," he adds pointedly. "And I know very well that you can't help who you fall in love with. If you've been struggling with this since last June, then it's obviously very serious."

"It is," Syed says quietly, but firmly.

"I am, however, angry about the way you've handled things," Masood insists sharply. "I know you've struggled, and you thought you were doing everything for the best, but the way you've treated Amira is despicable."

"You don't always make very good decisions when you're cornered, do you?" he sighs. "You made a lot of choices without speaking to anyone, without getting any advice."

"I spoke to the Imam back in October," Syed admits. "I asked him if I could be gay and still be a good Muslim, and he told me that Allah created men for women, that it's the natural state, and that I would bring shame on you if I admitted I was gay. He advised me to stay with Amira."

"Allah knows a lot more, and has seen a lot more, than the Imam, and he is probably a lot more broadminded," assures Masood wisely. "Personally, I'd be more worried about your mother finding out, but that doesn't mean we can let things continue the way they are. You have to speak to her and to Amira first thing tomorrow, and tell them what you've told me. You don't need me to tell you that it's a pretty safe bet your mother, maybe even more than Amira, will give you hell; but you have no choice, this situation cannot be allowed to continue even for one more day. "

"Mum knows."

"What?"

"Christian told her."

"When?"

"The day of the wedding."

"Before or after?"

"Before."

"And she didn't stop it, come to me, tell me what was going on?"

"She thought it was best to go ahead with it, she was trying to protect me, us, our reputation.

Dad? Dad, where are you going? Dad please, please don't do anything rash."

But it's too late, Masood is already halfway up the stairs before Syed has finished the sentence.

"Zee, Zee," he shouts, barging into their bedroom.

"What, what is it?" mumbles Zainab as she struggles to wake up. "Lower your voice, you'll wake Kamil," she says sharply a moment before the baby starts to cry.

"Now look what you've done," she cries getting up out of the bed. "I'll never get him back to sleep."

"You knew that our son was gay and you didn't tell me?" growls Masood angrily.

"Oh," replies Zainab faintly, her face draining of colour.

"Tamwar's gay?" asks a surprised Amira, coming out of hers and Syed's bedroom on her way to the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Jane, I'm on my way out, can't it wait?" pleads Christian in exasperation, before he buzzes her in. He is about to head into town, and is totally stressed out about it; the last thing he needs now is a family crisis.

The past couple of weeks have been hell for him. He hasn't let himself have any contact with Syed, but has learned from Jane that he's been working non-stop; and, according to Masood, he has completely shut himself off from everyone, including Amira.

Having proof that his plan is working is little consolation for Christian; but he comforts himself that what he's doing is for the best in the long run, and that Syed's pain will soon be over; one more little push should do it.

A useful thing Christian has noticed is that Syed passes by the door leading to his flat at the same time each morning on his way to the MQ. The first time Christian saw him, it was because he just happened to look out at the right time; but now he watches for him every morning, and can set his watch by him. It is this routine that is going to be key to the success of part two of operation liberate Syed.

Christian plans to get very drunk tonight, pick up a guy (who hopefully will also be very drunk), do as little as possible to him; and then, wearing very little, snog the face off him on the doorstep tomorrow morning, as he times the guy's departure to coincide with Syed walking past. The picture he's hoping to present for Syed's viewing pleasure is something like you might find on the front cover of a gay magazine. He likes the idea of one guy being completely dressed whilst the other is completely naked, but will wear his pants just in case Dot or Peggy happen to be out for an early morning walk. He wonders where he should put the hand Syed will be able to see as he walks past, for it to have the best effect, on the guy's bum or on his crotch. He remembers the flashes of anger and jealousy in Syed's eyes as he watched him stroking the inside of James' thigh all those months ago in the Vic, so he figures that if Syed were to see him stroking anything more personal he would really flip – so crotch it is then!

He knows he has played the jealousy card before, twice; but he also knows it's guaranteed to work; because there is very little in this life that will cause a person more pain than seeing the only person they have ever loved, or will ever love, kissing someone else.

He's really nervous about tonight, because he doesn't know, even after a lot of alcohol, whether he's going to be able to go through with it. It makes him smile to think that less than a year ago picking up a guy was no more of a big deal for him than picking up a box of cereal from the Minute Mart.

If for some reason this part of the plan doesn't work, part 3 of operation liberate Syed is going to be lot more direct. Christian is going to walk up to him in the middle of the Square, and, in front of everyone, pull him into his arms and kiss him to within an inch of his life (or until he feels the blade of the kitchen knife Zainab has run back to the MQ to get, pierce his back).

"Ian's having an affair, and I don't know what to do," cries Jane, walking quickly past him into the flat.

"Seriously, who on earth with?" asks Christian disbelievingly, as he goes to pour her a drink.

"With Ronnie Mitchell," replies Jane through her tears.

"Really, are you sure, Ronnie?" he asks, trying to keep the 'no way' look off his face. "No offence hon, but there's got to be another explanation. To be honest, you're the only woman I've ever met who sees whatever it is you see, in him."

"If you're going to be bitchy ...," she says in a hurt voice. "I thought my brother cared about me, but obviously not," she snaps, turning on her heal and marching back out the door before he can stop her. She is so upset that she bangs the street door after her and doesn't realise it hasn't closed properly.

Roughly five minutes after Jane's departure, Christian has his jacket on and is about to leave, when he hears someone pounding on the door of the flat. Being wary of anyone he doesn't know getting in, he calls out hesitantly, "Jane, is that you?"

"Christian, Christian, please let me in," Syed begs frantically, whilst hitting the door repeatedly with his fists.

"Just a sec, I'm coming," calls Christian, as he rushes to the door.

"He knows, dad knows," he cries breathlessly, almost breaking it down before Christian can get to it. "He's going to tell Amira, ..."

"Hang on babe," says Christian, as he quickly removes the chain.

"...or he might have already told her, or I have to tell her tomorrow," he adds in a panic as he comes crashing into the flat the second the door is open, and launches himself into Christian's arms.

"Shush, shush," soothes Christian, hugging him close and trying to calm him down.

"I broke up with her last week," continues Syed, the words tumbling over themselves to get out; he pulls back and looks pleadingly up at Christian, "but only in my head. I was going to tell her, every day I was going to tell her, but the words wouldn't come out, and now ..."

"It's going to be okay, it's all going to be okay," says Christian trying to reassure him. He gathers him up in his arms once more, and this time Syed collapses against him. Christian can feel his heart pounding through his shirt.

"Did Masood give you a really hard time? Did he hurt you in any way?" he asks anxiously once Syed has calmed down a bit.

"He gave me a cup of coffee," he mumbles into his shoulder, where he has his face buried.

"Coffee?" asks Christian, surprised.

"Yea, coffee," he whimpers in a wounded voice.

"My poor baby," says Christian teasingly, kissing the top of his head. He finds he now has a whole new level of respect for Masood.

"So you're all mine now, are you?" he whispers softly after a few moments, as it suddenly hits him what this all means.

Syed lifts his head and stares deeply into Christian's eyes, as his words sink in; and then a big smile slowly spreads across his face, the first genuine smile Christian has seen from him in so long. "I guess I am," he says huskily, "yea, I'm all yours."

But almost immediately, the smile is replaced with a frown, "As long as I'm not boring you, of course, I wouldn't want …" he manages, before Christian's lips silence him.

"Whose boring now?" asks Syed with a smug grin, sometime later, his chin resting on Christian's naked chest.

"Not you, that's for sure," replies Christian, as he tries to his breath back. "Although to be fair, I didn't say you were boring, I said you weren't much fun."

"And that I looked like shit," reminds Syed sulkily, the offence still a sore point.

"I was angry with you," Christian admits, "I was angry that you were being so stubborn, that you were suffering and that I couldn't do anything to help you."

"Um, well, maybe," murmurs Syed, slightly mollified.

"You know, I think maybe you should head back home now," says Christian tentatively after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "to see …"

"Home. Right. Of course." Syed interrupts coldly, pushing himself away from Christian and jumping up off the bed. "I guess mum was right all along," he adds icily as he reaches for his clothes, "all I was to you was a challenge. She warned me that if I betrayed my family, if I lost my family, that I shouldn't automatically assume you'd want me here with you, that all you ever wanted was …," he stops, unable to continue, his voice breaking.

"Sy," grasps Christian in surprise, "what are you doing? I didn't mean …"

But Syed is not listening, "… a fling," he sobs, "nothing serious. Commitment is a dirty word to you … you just wanted to see how far I would go for you, if I would ..."

"Syed," snaps Christian angrily, now realising what's going on in his head. He sits up quickly and, grabbing Syed's arm, pulls him back onto the bed; and when Syed tries to punch him, he grabs his other arm and rolls him over until Syed is underneath him; pushing both of his arms above his head with one hand, he pins him down with the other to stop him struggling.

"Syed, stop, STOP," he shouts angrily, trying to control him.

Finally, realising he's beaten, Syed gives up. His anger fades, and is replaced by despair. "How could I be enough for you?" he whispers brokenly. "You never stay with guys, do you? You get bored and move on. You left Leyton, James, Marty, as soon as you had them where you wanted them. And other guys, before that," he trails off sadly, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Can I speak now?" snaps Christian furiously, once Syed has finished.

"First of all, do you really think I'd put myself through everything that's happened over the last few months if I was just in it for the thrill of the chase, or because I've 'never had a Pakistani before', to use your mother's words?" he demands outraged. "And as for your list of my most recent conquests, lets run through them, shall we: Top of the list was Leyton, who, as I've already told you, I used to make you jealous; I'm not saying I'm proud of it but there you go. I can't even remember how I first met him, I was very drunk, mainly because of you by the way. With James, I genuinely hoped I could move on from you, because we were friends, and I did fancy him a bit before you got inside my head. And it was Mark, not Marty, and he didn't actually exist, if you recall," he adds, instinctively wiping away Syed's tears, but none too gently.

"Right, well …," murmurs Syed unsurely.

"I've had more than my fair share of guys in the past, I won't deny it, or ever make excuses for it," continues Christian, angrily cutting him off, "but you changed all that. I don't want to go all soppy about it, but I knew pretty much from that first night that you were different, and NOT just because of the sex; I knew then that you were the one," he states bluntly in a less than romantic tone.

"You know I've never cared about how many …," Syed tries to reassure.

"AND," he continues, "the reason I suggested you go home is because I want you to get your side of the story across with Amira, and especially Tamwar. If he finds out you're gay from Amira or your mum, or worse someone outside the family, he will be hurt. You've got to talk to him as soon as possible. You also need to phone Shabnam. I want you to be able to keep your family, to be able to go and visit them or meet up with them whenever you like; and maybe even some day get back what you once had with Zainab. I don't want you to go through what I went through when I came out."

"Oh, right," says Syed awkwardly, now blushing at his outburst, "maybe I over-reacted a little."

"Yea, maybe just a little," Christian agrees sarcastically, as he lets go of Syed's arms and rolls off of him onto his back, linking his hands behind his head in a 'you're not off the hook yet' gesture. "I can see that I'm going to have my work cut out undoing all the damage Zainab has done, filling your head full of poison," he adds bitterly.

"AND, by the way," he continues, without looking at Syed, "I didn't think we needed to clarify that you would be living here from now on, but if you need me to say the actual words …"

"I'm sorry," mumbles Syed, turning onto his side to look at Christian, "I should have trusted you. You've always been there for me, despite all the grief I've given you, the grief my mum has given you," he admits, his voice full of regret. He tentatively puts his arm around Christian's waist and bravely rests his head on his chest.

"It's okay," sighs Christian at last, his anger beginning to slip away. He wearily lifts his hand and rests it on Syed's head, stroking his hair.

"Sy," he says, after a little while, "do you remember the day back in early December that we spent working in the MQ all on our own, when we managed to get rid of Amira and your dad, the day you told me for the first time that you loved me?"

"Yea," replies Syed quietly.

"Well, it wasn't just the evening of that day I enjoyed," he explains, "I loved just being with you all day, chatting and doing the mundane stuff like cooking, washing up, all of it. And do you remember the day, back in October I think it was, the day we had to stay here for hours because Zainab and Amira were prowling the square looking for you?"

"Yea," Syed smiles, "we must have spent at least six hours in here without even being able to go near the window."

"And we spent probably a couple of them arguing the pros and cons of Superman versus Spiderman, and who would win in a fight between Bianca and Roxy; and another chunk of time putting our cases for Robbie versus Take That," reminds Christian.

"Yea, and I still think 'Back for good' beats anything Robbie's done," Syed laughs. "But don't forget," he continues, adjusting his position so that he is now resting his chin on his arms which are folded across Christian's chest, so that he is able to look into his eyes, "we also had a lively religious debate, remember you said Jesus was ..."

"The point is," Christian gently interrupts Syed getting side-tracked by pressing his thumb against his lips, the point is that I loved that day. On paper, it should have been most boring day ever, but I loved it, I loved every minute of it; and that's never happened for me before with any guy, I can promise you.

"Oh," says Syed, blushing shyly.

"Yea, 'Oh'," responds Christian with a smile. He knows he will never, as long as he lives, get used to how adorable Syed looks when he's embarrassed.

"I really am sorry for kicking off," says Syed miserably.

"Seriously, Sy, it's fine," insists Christian. "In the time I've known you, you've only ever gotten angry because you were feeling cornered or afraid. Under normal circumstances, you have such a gentle nature.

I can only guess how traumatic tonight has been for you, and how scared and uncertain you must be about everything right now," he adds, now feeling a little guilty about his own angry response. "I think the way your mum reacted when I told her you were gay really brought it home to me what you've been up against."

Syed responds by reaching for Christian's hand and, kissing the back of it, he holds it tightly in his own.

"How about we make a new rule," says Christian softly, as he gently brushes Syed's hair back from his eyes "that from now on you can kick off whenever you like."

"But I won't need to get angry anymore," replies Syed huskily, "because I won't be afraid anymore because I'll be with you from now on."

"Very true," says Christian smiling, and for a second he thinks about pinching himself.

"And obviously if you need to vent, anytime ...," Syed mumbles awkwardly.

"I'll remember you said that," laughs Christian, pulling him fully on top of him and kissing him passionately until Syed is in no doubt that he has been forgiven.

"Actually, have we been arguing long enough to justify make up sex?" he murmurs huskily against Syed's lips after a little while, a wicked twinkle in his eye.

"Well, I'm not sure if there's an actual rule ..." Syed replies quickly, his breath quickening as he eagerly presses himself against Christian to let him know exactly what he thinks of the idea.

And so it went for the rest of the night, and the next day they faced the world together.

_**The end**_

_**Thank you for reading this story. I hope you liked it.**_


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